


you could make it click, making me pop

by calciseptine



Category: Marvel, X-Men
Genre: M/M, no tony no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calciseptine/pseuds/calciseptine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is a scientist with a hypothesis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you could make it click, making me pop

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in response to small snippet made on [this tumblr post:](http://memosfromfury.tumblr.com/post/11963026030/submitted-by-zathras10-due-to-certain) _The incident that caused this specific memo is one that Tony can’t say he regrets. He saw the opportunity (Peter was_ obviously _staring at Logan as he did his reps, mouth agape and pupils blown), and like hell was Tony going to let it pass._ Logan/Peter our favorite jungle gym in the Marvel playground and I just couldn't help myself. Faor also drew [Peter's doodle!](http://faorismwork.tumblr.com/post/12019648103/lineart-by-faorism-colored-by-calciseptine) I LOVE YOU WAIFU. ♥

Tony sits on the firmly padded mat long after the sweat sparring with Natasha has cooled, slowly sipping from his water bottle. He's trying to not blatantly stare at Steve in the opposite corner with Thor—bench-pressing three hundred pound weights like it's nothing and sweating just enough for the white cotton of his shirt to cling to his body—by letting his eyes wander around the training room.

On the training mat next to Tony, Natasha is teaching Jan some basic holds, to which Tony has already given the appropriate leer and inviting wink. Bruce is on a nearby bench with headphones firmly over his ears, his legs crossed and his eyes closed as he breathes deeply and steadily; Tony has always wondered if he listens to the sound of waves or something equally zen to help calm him or if he listens to foreign death metal, perhaps to help him train his focus for more chaotic turns of events. Logan is doing push-ups (as he has been for the last fifteen minutes; Christ, what does he eat with his Wheaties?); Clint is firing round after round of sharp tipped arrows into a practice dummy; and Peter is tucked against the wall, curled around a heavy textbook, and staring at the flex of Logan's biceps.

Peter is the newest recruit Fury and his Avengers Initiative drafted and, at sixteen, he is also the youngest. Tony likes him: he's funny for a kid, smart enough to follow most of Tony's rambles, and incredibly driven. His superpowers, bequeathed by a very conveniently placed radioactive spider, are nothing to thumb a nose at either. Steve and Natasha had hang-ups about letting an underage teenager onto the team, but that had been before he saved Logan from another one of Loki's pranks gone wrong. Now, as long as he attends high school at least four days out of the week, gets home before midnight, and eats all his vegetables, Peter is much a part of the team as Clint or Jan... or Logan.

Tony blinks once, twice, and takes another sip of from his water bottle. It's been a couple decades since Tony was a teenager, but the big doe eyes Peter's throwing at a certain mutant are unmistakable. Peter Parker, aka Spider-man, is head over heels in love.

With a smirk and a quick glance back to Steve—flushed a blotchy pink and providing fodder for Tony's admittedly overactive imagination—Tony gets up and saunters over to Peter, dropping his water bottle to the floor and hunkering down beside the besotted teen.

"Hey Pete," Tony greets, unable to contain his glee at Peter's wide and startled eyes. "What's today's subject? Physics? Chemistry? _Anatomy?"_

Peter slams his book shut, but not before Tony catches the hearts doodled in the corners of his notes and a well-rendered doodle of Spider-man swooning into Wolverine's arms. "Uh," Peter begins abortively. "Um, Physics?"

_Calculus: Early Transcendentals_ stares back up at them.

"Uh-huh," Tony says, flinging an arm over Peter's shoulders. Peter flushes a dark red, which only makes the light freckles on his cheeks stand out more. Then, in a conspiratorial whisper that is perhaps too loud to be called a whisper, Tony adds, "I just wanted to ask if your spider-sense was tingling."

"M-my what?" Peter stammers.

"Spider-sense," Tony repeats slowly. "I couldn't help but notice that you were staring at Logan. You do know that we gave him his rabies shot, right? He's not gonna bite you. Well, he might, if you ask nice enough."

At this point, Logan's fine hearing has picked up the tail ends of Tony's speech and Peter has gone from red to _red_ , as though the capillaries in his face had all burst at once. Logan stands with a snarl, his sweat pants riding low on his trim hips, and Peter lets out an honest squeak at the inch of skin he sees.

"Stark!" Logan snaps just as Peter babbles, "OhgodwhatdidIdotodeservethis—"

Peter is out of the training room in the blink of an eye, and Tony is pinned to the wall by an angry, five-foot-three Canadian a second later. A moment after that, Steve is pulling them apart as Logan swears, "Fuckin' Stark, you just had to call the kid out!" as Tony says mirthfully, "Every teenager needs a little embarrassment to keep them healthy, Logan, do you even remember that far back?" Steve tries to talk over the both of them, "Logan, nothing is solved through violence—Tony, stop goading him," but only just succeeds in keeping Logan from slicing Tony's throat out.

Eventually, Logan stops growling at Tony and storms out. Tony succumbs to, in his approximation, a well-earned laugh. His gloating, however, is cut short by Steve's hand clapping down on his shoulder and his serious blue eyes.

"Tony," he says. "I think you and I need to have a talk."


End file.
